


what is kindness without gratitude

by kwjs



Series: Fate Deserves Nothing [1]
Category: Star Stable
Genre: Gen, also. ALSO. didn't feel like writing angst bc that's what 2/3 of this is tbh, i haven't written an sso fic in MONTHS, i know there are typos but im too tired to care, is this a tag?? im making it a tag, let me be pleased, the author is PLEASED, the last one i worked on is over 8k and still not finished
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-23 07:28:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17679059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kwjs/pseuds/kwjs
Summary: Feya had experienced grief: she'd experienced it when her parents had kicked her out; when she'd struggled for 8 months out on the streets, homeless; when she traveled to Jorvik to live on an unknown island; when she's struggled with money for almost 10 years. She's experienced hardships, but also triumphs. She was strong, and she was brave.But the real grief was feeling her soulsteed being ripped from this life to pass on into the land of the dead. That was a feeling she'd never forget.





	what is kindness without gratitude

Feya hadn’t told anyone; not Evergray, not Elizabeth, not her younger soul riders; not Rebecca, Luciana, Odette; not even Pi. Pi probably knew, but not because she’d told her. Ydris and Pi were two peas in a pod, and this was all Ydris’ doing.

Nuada was currently standing in the paddock up above Vale village, prancing around with Concorde. Rhiannon, the only person who currently knew, stood next to the other woman, shoulder to shoulder, watching the two mare soul steeds play. 

It was past midnight; way too late to make it back safely to her stables, so Feya had called one of the fishermen and practically begged him to just check in on her horses and lock up the stables. The fishermen that stayed in Cape West had different schedules; the one she got in contact with offered to have several of them switch off in shifts, just to make sure no one bothered anything while the woman was away.

“You can just owe us a favor!” he’d said after she explained the situation. He’d introduced himself as Simon, and was taking the whole frantic plea overall pretty well. “It’ll probably in the form of a riding lesson or two!” 

Feya’d laughed. “That sounds fine. Bless you all.” And that’d been that. 

She hadn’t meant to end up in Valedale this late. Her decision to take Nuada out and about as her ride for the day was, in retrospect, perhaps a mistake, but only to those who possessed or were sensitive to magick on Jorvik. The townspeople had all complimented her horse, claiming that Fion was looking good for his age.

Except, the horse wasn’t Fion. Ydris’ magick only made it appear as though the horse was her late soul steed; a cloak, if you will. But to the rest, to the witches, druids, keepers, soul riders, this was a mare; this was not Fion.

A few days after Ydris had left the young mare with her, Feya had found that Nuada, despite being young, was eager to learn, and knew suspiciously a lot about being a horse that was expected to know how to act with a rider on their back. Ydris had claimed that Nuada was brought into existence by Pandorian magick, Jorvik magick, and some of Feya’s inner most desires. 

If what he said was true, Feya wasn’t sure whether to be grateful, or horrified. 

Concorde let out a series of huffs and puffs, coming to a halt to scratch at her front left leg. Nuada paced around the foal, head lowered to search for traces of grass and hay. Rhiannon turned to her companion, letting out a deep, deep sigh.

“So. This is what you’ve kept hidden from us?” 

For what seemed like a long time, Feya said nothing. She and Rhiannon had never gotten along. From the beginning they’d been at odds. Both women in their early 30s who had a natural affinity to horses and the magick of Jorvik was where their similarities ended. Rhiannon was fiercely protective of the Keepers and Druids, while Feya refused to become a member, even though she was the 5th member of the soul riders, and Aideen’s reincarnation at that. 

The Druids would never win her full support, or trust, ever. But that story was long, and brutal, and Rhiannon only knew pieces. 

“When I don’t know what to say, I don’t say anything at all. I received this as a gift from Ydris, and had to take some time to process her; and Fion’s death.” 

At this, Rhiannon winced. The Druid had been there when Feya’s stallion had died, struck down, leaving Feya in a full blown panic attack on the ground, unable to coherently be of any sort of help in the chaos. 

“Ydris made Nuada, you said?” Rhiannon’s use of the name, and Feya’s use of “the horse” hadn’t gone unnoticed. 

“Yes, he did. From Pandorian and Jorvik magick…and my own desires, apparently.” Rhiannon jerked in surprise.

“That’s…pretty powerful.” 

“Not really,” Feya shrugged, nonplussed. “I know what I wanted: Fion.” 

Neither woman said anything for awhile. Feya watched Nuada. She saw her late stallion in the young mares movements: in the slight head tilt when concentrating on something around her; in the way she kicked out her back legs before launching into a gallop; how she politely and gently took treats and food from her soul rider and other people; especially in the way she never fussed in what was asked of her, and took everything in stride.

She was the living reincarnation of what Feya loved: Fion.

Feya felt her chest squeeze. “I miss him,” she added, as more of an afterthought, for the silence that had permeated between the two had been long enough to move on.

The other woman said nothing, then, “Your soul steed died. Of course you would miss him, and not just you, but your magick, and your soul.”

Feya wheezed out a choking laugh, “I thought I was stronger than this.” 

Rhiannon, visibly shocked, carefully turned the other woman to face her. “No! No, no. Feya, you…you are incredibly strong. I may not know you well, but I know some of your history; what the Druids have told us. I know that you came to this island young, on your own, frightened and alone. You found Fion when you needed him the most, thankfully towards the beginning of your journey.”

“And now,” the slightly older woman continued, “you’ve found Nuada when, perhaps, you need her the most, regardless of the circumstances, and yes, magick, that brought you both together.” 

Feya didn’t say anything in return, just nodded, not completely satisfied, but not arguing anymore. They both turned back to watch the two young horses in the paddock as they played. It was unexpected; hell, it was entirely unconventional. But it was happiness, in its own way. And that should never be shamed, no matter the what it meant for their own fate. Fate was not meant to honored always.

This was the future. Feya supposed she could live with that.

**Author's Note:**

> The reason that Fion died isn’t because he was old (in my canon, he and Feya had been together for 12 years at the age of 27) but because of the Starter Horse update last year. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to just be like “yea no this is Fion, just younger!” or even have him be reincarnated. But I think, honestly, I will just let him be at peace. So instead this new model of my starter horse is gonna be Nuada, a young bab that Ydris’ gifted to Feya. Hope this makes sense! Also yes, I will eventually be posting parts 1 & 3, but I’ll wait for sure on part 1 until I’m ready to sit down and write an angsty as fuck fic, because y’all know I live for that angst. xD


End file.
